To Reach an Understanding
by Citiesofcolor
Summary: After almost 12 years of partnership, Olivia finds herself at loose ends, both figuratively and literally.


"_I think… I'm so tired."_

Sometimes, especially lately, she's been thinking. Thinking a lot. More than she ever used to before. Not that she didn't think before, but it's different now. There's a numbness in her that she either never noticed before, or maybe it's new. Maybe it's a product of getting old. Old_er_, she mentally corrects herself. She's not exactly past her expiration date yet.

Sometimes though, when she sees Amaro and Rollins together in the squad room, she wonders if she and Elliot were like that. She knows on a mental level that _yes,_ they were the same idealistic young cops at one time but it's hard to get that into her heart. And now she'll watch them, Amaro and Rollins, and she feels so tired and numb and jaded that some mornings she doesn't want to get out of bed.

It's getting harder. Every goddamn day it just gets harder and she's starting to develop this sadistic emotional flinch every time her phone rings because it might be her that's caught the latest case.

She used to love this job as much as one can love a job like hers. She used to believe that she was doing her part in life; making a difference in the lives of the survivors she's touched. She sees that now in Amaro and Rollins. Now she understands. Now she looks at the latest body they've found and her thought process is less _I'm going to find this person justice_ and more _I will punish the person who has done this_. There's the anger burning low in the back of her mind, the disgust that a human being could do something like that to another, the same _I'm going to catch this bastard_ that was there before. There's more bitterness now though. A lot more.

And she's still so goddamn tired. So goddamn defeated. Ellis is right. She needs something.

Maybe this is what Elliot felt. Maybe this was what made him retire.

God, she misses him. She misses him so much. It's still strange, even after a year of working with another partner, she expects to see him wandering out of the crib, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and asking her if Kathy's called. Sometimes after a particularly hard case (and who's she kidding? All her cases are hard now) she misses being able to show up on his doorstep and to just watch the city go by on his stoop. She misses early morning coffee runs- little moments between 4:00 and 5:00 in the only coffee shop that was open so early when they could sit companionably and just decompress after an all-nighter, intimacy heightened by the warmth of the store and the darkness outside. She misses the way he knew when too much was too much for her without making her feel weak.

She likes Amaro. Really. He's just so… young. Amaro doesn't quite understand yet, what it's like. He's not Elliot or Fin, and doesn't understand why she tenses up anytime they're near a kid clanging a stick against a fence. He's not Elliot, and doesn't yet understand why the scent of alcohol on the breath of a perp makes her just a little but more hell-bent on getting their confession. He's young, and he'll learn.

He's young, and he's not Elliot.

She wonders what Elliot's doing right now.

They haven't talked in weeks. Months maybe. She's kind of lost track.

She still has his number.

Before she can chicken out, she's already dialed it. She just wants to hear his voice. Maybe he's deleted her phone number by now. Maybe he's gotten a new phone. Maybe he's happily having sex with his wife and playing with his children and living a happy, normal life free of his fucked-up emotionally crippled ex partner who can't let go of the very job that she thinks is killing her.

He picks up on the third ring.

"Stab…" He stops, breathes. "Hello, this is Elliot Stabler."

He's even changed the way he answers his phone. She smiles, just a bit.

"Hey Elliot." She says, feeling stupid when she realizes her voice is thick with tears. Fuck, she's pathetic.

"Liv?"

He's surprised, she can tell. His voice always raises a little when he's surprised. More breathy, less growly.

"Yeah. It's me."

Well, she's certainly not going to win the Best Conversationalist award this year. Most like Best Stater of Obvious. Or maybe Most Clingy Partner.

"Wow." He pauses for a moment. The absence of a voice is deafening and the static crackling in the background only makes it more obvious. She thinks he's gathering his thoughts. Maybe. Otherwise planning on the quickest way to end this conversation without hurting her feelings.

Well, this was certainly a good idea. Nope, the award she's going to win is Most Awkward Phone Call Ever.

"It's been a while." She says, trying to sound more casual than she feels.

"Yeah. How're things?" He asks, and she can practically see him rubbing the back of his neck to alleviate his nerves. Some things never change, and the habits of a sheepish Elliot Stabler are one of them.

"They're alright. Different." She chews on her lip a moment. "How're things with you?"

Great. They've graduated to small talk.

"Fine. Eli just turned four last week."

Her face falls. Four years since the closest thing she'll ever have to a child of her own was born. Since then there's been Calvin… But Oh God, she still can't think about that without her chest getting tight from all that pain.

"Liv, is everything ok?"

Well, that certainly broke the ice. She sighs, then runs her hand through her hair, forgetting yet again that it is a Bad Habit and she really needs to work on it because it flattens out the curls.

"Yeah. I just…" She hesitates a moment. "I just miss you Elliot."

There's silence on the other end of the line. For one, two, three, four heartbeats she's terrified.

"I miss you too Liv."

And then suddenly, there's warmth.

"Are you busy right now?" She asks, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice.

"No. Have something in mind?"

He's smiled over the line. She knows it. His voice always softens a bit when he's smiling. Good sign.

"Yeah actually. I know it's late and kind of short notice, but is your stoop occupied at the moment?"

"Nope. Coffee's on you this time though. And none of that health tea crap you brought back with you from Oregon."

And she's so happy that it's almost like a drug because they're talking again. They're bantering again. They're acknowledging and reveling in their shared past. Maybe sometime tonight she'll even crack a joke about needing a kidney just to see if he'll remember.

"Leave the light on for me, okay?" She says, bringing them back to the very beginning, almost 13 years ago, and she feels relief that Richard White doesn't even scare her anymore, so long it's been. And now she's finding that fuck, she's tearing up again. How goddamn sentimental is she?

"Don't worry Liv." He says, and she has the sneaking suspicion he's got the same problem she's got when he clears his throat and starts again. The voice of Elliot Stabler didn't just break. Na uh. He'd stop it from sheer force of will. And then maybe punch it to make himself feel better. Sometimes she thinks she loves this big cuddly idiot.

She's already halfway out the door before he can pull himself together long enough to finish his sentence, and she loves him all the more for it.

"Don't worry Liv," he starts again, "I've got your back."

It's then that she knows no matter what, they're going to be okay.

Two days later, an envelope is given to her.

_Semper Fidelis, _Elliot, she thinks, smiling, as she fingers the new necklace around her throat. Semper Fidelis.


End file.
